Spare Parts
by tectrices
Summary: Some things just weren't meant to be thrown away. And no matter how chaotic it was, no matter how crazy it drove her, love just wasn't something she could ignore. Ed and Win oneshot


Disclaimer: I do not own! And for that, I assure you, you should be thankful.

A/N: Just a cute little one-shot for Ed/Win that I wrote over Christmas holidays. I had totally forgotten about it... Anyway, read and enjoy!

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Spare Parts

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Winry was a skilled mechanic. Even at a young age her skill was undeniable, and with training from her grandmother she quickly became more and more proficient. With her tools in her hand, no one could bring her down. She was an expert- unstoppable and professional. The springs and gears called to her, the nuts and bolts were her favourite toys. In cool, soulless machinery, she felt more at home than she ever did around people. 

Well... There was one.

Edward Elric, stubborn alchemist that he was, could always make her feel at home. They had grown up together. She and Ed and his little brother Al were the best of playmates. She had been there when they lost their mother, and…. She had been there when they had tried to bring her back. She had been the one working on Ed's automail- his right arm and left leg. She had connected the nerves, listened to his suppressed screams, cried nearly more tears than he had.

And he wasn't like her tools. A human body, with skin and muscle, wasn't anything like the wrenches and screwdrivers she had loved as a child. They were cold; impersonal. Ed was warm; he was fevered and flushed and... So very real.

She never told him, but she secretly loathed and loved every moment spent working on him.

There was a thrill– she gave him that arm, she had created a piece of him– as she worked, knowing that it was her work on him, that it was her metal and screws and gears that gave him a whole, working arm and leg. She was playing God– creating a limb with precision and skill. And she loved being so near to him– so close. She could smell the faint scent of sweat and heat radiating from him, could feel the smoothness of skin every time she brushed against him.

But she felt a pang every time she worked, as well. She wasn't anything special– no sort of deity–, she was just an automail mechanic. Working on the boy (who had become a man far sooner than he should have) she... she _cared_ for. She hated causing him pain, hated that he needed the arm in the first place, hated what the arm reminded him of every damn day of his life. Did he resent her for forcing him to relive that terrible moment? Winry was sure he didn't, but that couldn't lessen the guilt she felt because of it.

Working on Ed was different than working on anyone else. She wasn't nearly as involved, she could ignore any feelings she had about any other patient.

Winry loved the feeling that came with tearing something apart and then putting it back together. But human beings weren't like machines. Human beings didn't have spare parts. Every part was essential– they were perfectly wired, perfectly built, every part working together in perfect sync to keep the body running efficiently. She couldn't deny an almost morbid fascination with the workings of humanity, but it was so complex– and there were so many emotions and exceptions involved– that she never gave it much thought.

But sitting with Edward Elric, adjusting and securing the thick metal arm she had painstakingly made, she couldn't help but wonder at her own spinning gears. She could feel her lungs taking in and expelling air, she could feel her beating heart pumping blood through her whole body.

Winry was a skilled mechanic. She understood how to make things work, how to keep things running smoothly. There were exact measurements, precise tools to use, and things fit in a specific place in a specific order. It was a science. She lived for that.

And perhaps that's the reason she never told Ed how he made her heart race. That was why she never told Ed how she loved to see him smile, how she felt when he was near. Winry lived for the exact– the scientific.

And love was far from being a science.

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End A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews would be GREATLY appreciated!  



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